


lean into the fucking youth

by ohmyvalar



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Amalgamation of book and movie canon, Ambiguous Gender, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Morality, F/M, I never write reader inserts what is happening to me lmao, M/M, Multi, Reader is Not Nice, Reader-Insert, Still less clown horror and more terrible human behavior tbh, Unwhitewashed Bowers Gang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 16:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12236292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyvalar/pseuds/ohmyvalar
Summary: You are Victor Criss' twin, returned to Derry after a childhood spent away with your mother. All you wanted was to escape your mother's abusive new boyfriend - yet when your brother pulls you into his circle of friends with a vague promise of change to come, you find your sense of morality challenged time after time, threatening to transform your own perceptions of right and wrong. And what are those flashes of red you keep seeing around town? What is your brother hiding from you? What hidden secrets are festering in the dirty waters beneath the sewers? Perhaps Derry is not at all what it seems...





	lean into the fucking youth

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betad, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone! Warnings for this chapter in end notes, jic.

'Hey, you there!' 

The shout joined the ceaseless din already filling the crowded hallway. As students continued pouring out of classrooms against the backdrop of the blaring period bell, you ignored the call and focused on shoving your books back into the locker with a little more force than necessary. 

Apparently, deafeningly noisy hallways during breaktime were a painfully unavoidable constant in every high school.

You were about to reach for your headphones to cancel out the din when the voice rang out again, this time from an even closer distance. 

'Hey - transfer kid!' 

_Jesus, this guy's persistent._

Annoyed, you whipped around in the general direction of the insistent call. 'What do you _want?'_

It was only your first day back in high school - cum first week back in Derry - and you were already being forced to socialize, it seemed.

Granted, you were once enrolled here with many of these same schoolmates back in first grade. But after your parents split, your mother had taken you with her and raised you in her hometown a few states away. Derry held no memories for you, and if it wasn't for your mother's new boyfriend, you never would've moved back here alone. 

Well, not alone - your father and twin brother had stayed in town all this while, and despite your estranged relationship they were accommodating enough...

'Uh - Henry wants to see you!' 

Your attention snapped back to the present moment. Before you stood a mountain of a boy, staring down at you with an expectant smirk. He easily towered over you as he confidently intruded into your personal space; from his expression and poise, you could tell he didn't expect no for an answer.

And well if that didn't just push all the wrong buttons.

'Who the hell's Henry?' 

Your dismissive remark drew a disbelieving look from the boy. 'Henry? Henry Bowers? Leader of the Bowers Gang?'

 _Huh._ That actually rang a bell. Henry Bowers... The hazy image of a brown-haired boy extending a glinting switchblade towards you flashed by in your mind's eye. _Wait - that's right._ You remembered overhearing a bunch of lower-grade kids arguing loudly about a bully called something _Henry_ earlier in the day. 

And... You were pretty sure you'd heard the name come out of your brother's mouth more than a few times since you moved back in. 

Narrowing your eyebrows, you shot back, 'What does he want with me? No - how does he even _know_ me?' _It's literally my first day back in high school._ What the fuck? You didn't want to make trouble for yourself so early on, but you didn't believe in letting people walk all over you, either. 

A resentful look was creeping across the boy's face, but he didn't make a move against you like you thought he might. 'I dunno. Vi - I mean, the other dude said something to him, and then he sent me after you.' 

Still staring down at you, he impatiently awaited your answer.

Okay, so now you had a choice. Either you could go on home and get a few hours of peace and quiet before your father returned from work, or... You might sate your growing curiosity but possibly get yourself into bigger trouble than it was worth.

The answer was an obvious one.

'Oh?' You bunched your arms tight in front of your chest, noting the way the boy's eyes dipped down momentarily. 'And where does he want me to be?' 

'Huh? Uh, I mean - Come with me.' Visibly relieved at your unexpectedly swift acquiescence, the boy beckoned you to follow as he strode down the hallway with wide, steady strides. 

Well, then. This wasn't how you envisioned your first day back in high school to end, but you could do with some excitement in your life. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you followed. 

'Say, isn't that -' 

'Oh shit, with _Huggins?_ Fucked -' 

'Hey, get out of the _way.'_

From a pace behind, you watched the buzzing comments from surrounding students die down as your guide carelessly slammed a particularly bold kid up against the locker with a casual shove. 

_Woah._ You'd underestimated that you could take him on one-on-one with the sweet element of surprise on your side. Now was an optimum time to reconsider your decision, if there ever was one. 

But just as you were about to consider sneaking away, the boy turned abruptly and rapidly, locking eyes with a warning glare. There was no doubt in your mind that if you were to turn tail and run now, he would hunt you down like a predator hungry for its prey. And the consequences wouldn't be pretty - you had your own fair share of experience with bullies, after all.

And so you threw your hands up in the air in easy surrender. 'Calm down there, big guy. I'm still coming with.' 

Besides, it'll be better to keep his guard down until we get into an open space. Then you could run, with the small additional benefit of significantly lowered chances of being caught. 

True to your word, you trailed behind obediently as he led you out through the school gates, meeting his suspicious gazes with as bright a false smile as you could manage. 

When he glanced away, you scanned the hectic road for the safest route to escape. There were distractions aplenty, but could you outrun him? And what if his friends routed you? You still didn't have any idea about what they even looked like... 

'Belch! Over here!' A voice called out over the drive. 

Following the direction of the sound, your heart sank as you took in the boys leaning against the expensive-looking car across the road. One, two, and a third sitting shotgun... Shit. Even with only the first brown-haired boy in sight, you knew that you couldn't take them all on alone. 

As you stood rooted to the spot like a deer trapped in the headlights, a second boy with curly raven hair looked right at you and winked, his left hand sliding down to crudely cup his crotch.

Nope. You were getting out of here. Sexual harassment wasn't really on your list of Fun Things To Do In High School. No way were you risking being trapped in that car with those guys. 

You began to back away, but your guide - Belch? What kind of name was that? Surely you'd heard that wrong - had caught onto your intentions. 

'Where do you think you're going?' 

A rough hand closed over your wrist, pulling you back into place with astounding strength. Under the brutal treatment, you could feel your joints screaming in protest as Belch's fingers dug into your skin. 'Come on,' he muttered, a vicious edge entering his tone. He was beginning to drag you across the road forcibly.

Fuck - no - 'Let go!' With a snarl, you put your weight into your trapped elbow, using the momentum to smash your foot into the boy's genitals. 

A wretched yell torn between agony and rage resounded in the drive, and Belch released your wrist - but not before a spasming squeeze that crushed it with a sickening pop. 

The twin howls of agony that echoed through the air drew the attention of several kids and adults alike, but no one seemed concerned enough to step forward and intervene. 

'You little - fucking - ' Belch lunged again, this time capturing both your arms in his vice-like grip and crashing you into the ground. The shock of the fall barely registered, because the boy's thumbs pressing hard against bone - hard enough that you genuinely feared for your life for a split second. 

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as you stared at the boy, recognizing the furious haze in his eyes. Your vision began to swim.

'Hands off, Belch! Hands off!' 

A familiar voice cut through your red-stained, pain-filled reverie. When your line of sight cleared, you gaped as you recognized the interloper standing between you and your attacker. 

He was near as tall as Belch, with a lanky frame that belied the wiry strength hidden underneath his simple grey shirt. But you above all knew that his true asset lay in the highly intelligent brain adorned by a head of meticulously combed blonde hair - the same shade your own locks were. 

'Vic, get out of the way,' Belch was growling, low and dangerous. But his obstructor merely crossed his arms, unwavering. 

'Stand down, Belch. Come on, we've known each other all these years - you don't want this to get between us.' 

You frowned. You didn't like the direction this conversation was going in, and you certainly didn't want to hide behind him like a damsel in distress. 

Trying to pick yourself up, you winced as you braced your bad wrist against the ground. Jesus fuck. At least nothing else seemed to hurt much; you thanked your lucky stars that you'd thrown on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt today. 

Struggling upright and brushing grass off yourself, you eyed the two boys before you nervously. Should you run _now?_ But that didn't seem right - at any rate, he'd saved you, even if his intentions seemed dubious at best.

Not to mention he was your - was your - 

The thunder of an engine cut off abruptly on this side of the drive. Snapping your head around, you saw the car you'd previously spotted. What the - The other boys must've made the turn admit the confusion. 

'Go on, Vic. You finally gonna give us a good fight to prove what a good big brother you are?' 

The brown-haired boy was balancing on the razor edge of the convertible door, tip-toed sneakers not quite touching the ground. Up close, you could see the sunlight cast a glowing sheen across defined forearms, bared by the rolled-up sleeves of his red top.

The words were taunting, but there was a flickering fire in his eyes that betrayed a vicious desire to witness the imminent conflict play out before him. 

You frowned. Was this the kind of company your twin had been keeping all this while? What was your father thinking? Surely your mother would have firmly put an end to interaction with any such friends - but then, that was all before she fell head over heels for him. 

Nowadays, she didn't even care if her only remaining child moved over to another state alone. 

'Wait, Vic - that piece of fuck is your twin!?' Belch was gaping in disbelief, waving a hand in your direction. 

Even with his back facing you, you could practically see your brother rolling his eyes. 'Yes, Belch. Why else would I have told Henry to bring the transfer kid here?' 

Agitation rippled across Belch's face. Lifting and tossing his snapback onto the grassy ground, he charged at Victor with surprising speed for his bulk. In response, your twin sidestepped easily - only to be caught unawares by a lightning-swift arm that rammed across his torso.

As the two boys went stumbling across the pedestrian path, the brown-haired boy - could he really be Henry Bowers, the boy you dimly recalled from your bygone days in Derry? - leaned forward on with his elbows on his knees, watching intently. The way he was drinking in the violence spoke of fascinated indulgence, but the set of his shoulders were tense with apprehension; a strange paradox that compelled magnetizing attention. 

You were so riveted by the sight before you that you never heard the last boy creep up on you. 

'Hello there, newbie,' a new voice purred right into your ear, uncomfortably close. 

A lean arm snaked around your chest from behind you. 'Vic's been hiding the goods from us, I see,' the boy drawled, his fingers tracing impressions across the ridges of your collarbone. When you instinctively reached up to pull his roaming arm away, he grabbed your damaged wrist with his free hand. 

'Careful there,' he warned, his soft tone filled with undisguised menace. Reluctantly, you slowly relinquished your grip, feeling pain already beginning to shoot through your wrist. 

'I can see why Vic's kept you away all the while... But sharing is what friends do, isn't it?' Lips brushed the curve of your earlobe as his hot breath blew directly into your ear. 

On reflex, the protest tore out of your mouth. 'Fuck off - stay away from me -!' 

Immediately, the hand around your wrist tightened. You writhed in agony as your vision whited out from the pressure. Unconscious, pained moans escaped the back of your throat as you struggled against your captor's hold. 

Too late, you realized the effect your actions had on the boy. Pressing himself flush against you, he made sure you felt every inch of his warm skin against your back. 'Look at you, you little slut. You like this, don't you?' An unwelcome hand slid down to grope at you roughly between the legs. 

On reflex, you jerked back away from the invasive contact, only to inadvertently grind your ass up against the boy's burgeoning erection. An arm across the waist forcibly kept you in place, while the other began insidiously massaging your groin. 'Shit, I bet Vic does this to you all the time...' 

'Fuck you - Don't touch me - Help! HELP! HELP!!!' 

You put your weight into bucking the boy off, but he was too close to you for that to feasibly work. Despite his slender arms and long fingers, he was deceptively strong. Worse, his proximity and warmth were playing tricks on your physiology; against your will, you felt the first tendrils of desire coil in your gut under his ministrations. 

Fuck fuck fuck, this wasn't happening. What was this? How were you being openly molested in broad daylight, in full view of the school drive? As you cried out for help, you noticed students and parents alike averting their gazes from the commotion, a silent partner to the Bowers Gang's antics. 

Turning your gaze back onto your twin brother and Belch, still tussling with each other across the grounds, you bit back a call for attention. You didn't want Victor to get hurt while being distracted by you. 

Slowly, the familiar feeling of sickening despair welled up within you like a muddy pool of sewer water. 

You've been such a fucking idiot, overestimating yourself like this. So what if Derry had seemed like such a sweet town after your childhood city? So what if that little red 'I Love Derry' balloon someone had stuck into your mailbox on the day of your arrival had honestly warmed your heart? 

Didn't you remember why you'd moved back here in the first place? 

'Gonna fuck your pretty little ass up so hard you'll forget - oh - Henry.'

The question, addressed to someone before you, snapped you out of your dissociated daze. Your eyes refocused on the brown-haired boy approaching you. 

The call for help shaping your lips died unsaid when you noticed the fervent heat boiling in his fixated eyes, threatening to overflow. The conflicted animation of his face that you saw before had faded, replaced by a sizzling agitation that danced across his angry frame like an active volcano building up to its imminent, inevitable implosion. 

Your feet stuttered against the ground, a last ditch effort to escape. But the boy's grip was unrelenting.

Behind you, your captor was unexpectedly pleased by Henry's interruption. A head of curly black hair was thrust into your view as he leaned forward eagerly past your shoulder. 

'We can share. You know I don't mind.' 

The intimate insinuation in his undertone sent a cold drop of fear sliding down to ripple restlessly in your tense stomach. Your motivation to escape renewed, you scrutinized Henry's every move, trying to anticipate his actions. You had to get away. You had to get away before they were both on you. 

But then Henry's expression was morphing from lust-charged intent into irrational rage - though the element of violence shining in his burning eyes remained as bright as ever. 

You were cringing away even before Henry's arm moved in a blur, socking his friend right in the face. 

A muffled cry rang out from behind you as the blow connected. As your captor's grip loosened momentarily, you twisted in his unsolicited embrace, jamming a knee straight up between his legs. 

Instantly, the cry escalated into a hysterical howl of distress. 

Adrenaline buzzed through your pounding veins. As your attacker-turned-victim clutched desperately at his crotch, staggering backwards bowlegged, you couldn't help but stand over him a moment more, savoring the cathartic vengeance you had wrecked in return upon him. 

There was nothing to fear from the pathetic figure retreating in pain before you now. You would never let him get the drop on you again. You were safe, and now he was the one at your mercy. 

The raven-haired boy lifted his head, and with a sudden thrill you perceived a delicious vulnerability in the way his locks fell over his confounded, pain-distorted face. A strange switch had been pulled within the workings of your mind, one whose change would not easily be reversed. 

As if possessed by an otherworldly higher power, you moved forward, eyes fixated on the boy's alarmed expression as he mirrored your actions, keeping a steady distance between you. For a moment, you fantasized a voice whispering into your ear: _hurt him hurt him hurt him._ Out of the corner of your eye, a flash of red flickered and was gone.

And then the spell was broken by the sound of angry footsteps coming from behind you. 

Spinning around, you found yourself nose to nose with Henry Bowers. 

Shit shit shit. You didn't know what had come over you, but for the past few moments you'd completely forgotten about his existence, despite his appearance being what had freed you in the first place. 

Henry's blue eyes were like chips of icicles, piercing you to the heart. The violent fury was still brimming just under the surface, but they weren't targeted at you - at least not yet. Their proximity terrified you in a primal, instinctive way altogether different from the raven-haired boy's unwanted advances.

And suddenly the tables were turned once again. 

You took a careful step backwards. Henry followed. Your gazes locked; to say the the current of tension that passed between you was electrifying would be an understatement. 

The game of cat and mouse continued, although now you weren't enjoying much of it anymore. 

It was different from your encounter with the raven-haired boy; where it was clear he had desired an outlet for his lust, and you just happened to be there. 

What did Henry want? You recalled the foggy memory of the brown haired boy slowly ejecting his razor-sharp switchblade, smiling in satisfaction when he sensed your fear. You remembered his paradoxical fascination and fear of violence. 

Looking Henry straight in the eye, you lowered your gaze fractionally, slowly but surely. 

From underneath your eyelashes, you watched as proud confidence washed over his face, replacing the aggressive intimidation it had previously worn - too swiftly to be wholly genuine. 

Without a word, he pushed past you. The rough brush of his shoulder against yours rippled into a convulsive shudder through your entire arm. 

Turning, you saw the raven haired boy, evidently having just recovered from your blow, being kicked to the ground by Henry. 

'What the fuck do you think I am? Huh, Patrick? Some kinda fucking faggot?' 

Well, then. It certainly wasn't going to be worth angering Henry again to defend someone like this Patrick. 

You were going to leave this whole decidedly unpleasant encounter behind you now. And head home for a long, long nap with fingers crossed that this wouldn't feature in your nightmares. And probably figure out how to talk to your twin brother about this mess he'd dragged you into. 

So you turned your back on the fairly one-sided fight that was breaking up between Henry and Patrick - only to come face to face to the sight of your twin and Belch walking towards you, arms thrown over each others' shoulders. 

' -owe me one for this now.' Belch was demanding, staring at Victor as if daring him to disagree.

'Fuck's sake, it was one hit, Belch. Doesn't count.' 

'Oh yeah? It was one hit in the nuts, Vic. You wanna try one out for size?' 

'...' You were pretty sure Victor was rolling his eyes again. Fucking drama queen. 

'Thought so. Nah Vic, I think you owe me big.' 

'How about I let you fuck my twin for free, then? Revenge and wish fulfillment. After all, we are a splitting image of each other.' 

'What - ? Fuck no! What - what do you think you're implying, you little shit!?' 

A jab in the arm set Victor rubbing the area of impact gingerly. Belch was glancing away, evidently perturbed - though probably not for the same reasons you were. 

Then your twin looked up and locked gazes with you. 

'Get in the car.' He instructed, expression serious once again as he gestured towards the running vehicle by the curb. 

'What? No!' 

You and Belch exclaimed in unison, then exchanged a mutually disapproving look. 

'My wrist hurts just staring at this guy. And - not to mention - your friend over there just - groped me! Why the fuck would I get into your shitty ass car?' 

'Your twin got a free pass because of you, but why're we throwing in a free ride too? Outsiders don't get that privilege! Even that girlie Henry was after in ninth grade -' 

Victor rolled his eyes, smoothing a hand over his well-coiffed hair. 'Well, you guys seem to be getting along pretty well now, aren't you?' Pulling the convertible door open, he gestured for you to slide in. 

You responded with an unmoved stare, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. 'No way. I'm going home.' You turned to go, but Victor stopped you with a restraining hand on your arm. 

Nudging with a deft movement of his head for Belch to head on in first, your twin pulled you aside. 

'What is this, Victor? Your friends basically just kidnapped and assaulted me. And now you're asking me to - what, cozy up to them?' Your voice broke into an exasperated laugh.

Your twin sighed, a bored expression on his face. But his grey eyes were serious. Leaning close to press your foreheads together, he whispered, 'We're family. We're blood. We have to stick together, no matter what.' 

But we are together now, you wanted to argue. Could it be that your twin's response to your return into the Criss household had manifested in an overprotective instinct? Sure, in the days leading up to your parents' separation, you had both mourned and dreaded your imminent parting. But throughout the decade you'd spent apart, you've never received a single letter from him. 

'Something's coming. You can't be alone when It begins. And trust me, Patrick and Belch will be the least of your worries.' 

On their own the words may have sounded silly, but Victor's serious tone infused them with a ominously prophetic believability. 

With your foreheads touching, you felt the warm and grounding sensation of his presence suffused you with a calm acceptance. It had been so ever since you were kids. Father always claimed you were one soul divided into two separate bodies; only when you were together could you truly be whole. 

In this one private moment, you could momentarily forget about the world beyond you. Your brother was right. Your parents might have broken up, but the Criss twins had to stay together. 

'What's happening, Victor?' You questioned softly. The clamorous din of the school driveway faded into a background buzz as your world narrowed down to the tiny expanse between you. The very fabric of space seemed to vibrate and thrum with preternatural force as you both savored the tranquility of your private moment together. 

Then Victor was pulling away abruptly. The second the physical contact between you ended, the illusionary haven of security vanished. 'Get in the car,' he repeated, a strain of urgency entering his tone. 

This time you kept your mouth shut and did as you were told. 

From beside you in the driver's seat, Belch slid you a glare that was halfway between suspicion and jealousy. 

'What?' Great. Barely a minute had passed, and already you felt your irritation meter spiking again. 

'You guys seem close.' Belch returned with a scrutinizing frown. 'Closer than you'd expect for someone Vic's never mentioned even once before.' 

You didn't bother to suppress an exasperated laugh. 'He's my twin brother.' Was that what he was bothered about? You recalled what Victor had joked about before, and added, 'Though we do bear a striking semblance. Wouldn't you agree?' 

A heat that you honestly couldn't tell was more anger or embarrassment rushed onto Belch's face. 'What -' 

'By the way - is your name really Belch? Or is that just my brother's affectionate nickname?' 

The boy scowled, rearranging his snapback to shade his forehead. 'It's Reginald. Reginald Huggins.'

You told him your name in exchange, which prompted him to offer you an outstretched palm. 

'What - nope, I'm not giving you my hand again.' 

Belch - Reginald - rolled his eyes in a way that would've made your twin proud. 'Gimme. You think I'd hurt you with Victor right outside?' 

Still, you desisted. 'You're looking pretty suspicious here...'

'Fine. I just wanna fix your wrist, alright? And then we're even. I don't want Vic hounding me about it all day and night.' 

Satisfied with the answer, you extended your wrist gingerly. The area where Reginald had touched was still red and swollen. Then you fully registered his words, and broke into a laugh. 

'Wait - all night? Should I be expecting you around at home, too? Have you been next door in Victor's be -' 

'Shh!' Reginald hissed, clamping his hand down around your wrist and eliciting a pained exclamation from your lips.

'Jesus fucking Christ!' 

'Sorry,' he winced out an apology, prodding your wrist with surprising gentleness. Casting a furtive glance out of the convertible, he continued in a lower tone, 'Just... Don't joke bout shit like that, man. Especially not when Henry's around.' 

Right. You remembered the way Henry's mood had darkened instantly, and what he'd accused Patrick of being. 

'If... If you don't agree with what he's saying, then why are you still putting up with him like this?' 

A complicated expression crossed Reginald's face. 'Henry's always been like that. It's - it's his family. And you know, so were we - we both liked what he did. Mostly still do,' he admitted. 'And once you're in there's no out. It's safer to be with him than against him.' At this, as if remembering some vividly horrific act Henry had committed, he shuddered convulsively. 

And that was... What on earth had Victor gotten you both into? This didn't sound safe at all. What could someone as unstable and violent as Henry protect you from? 

Finished with his inspection, Reginald patted your hand. 'It's fine. Not dislocated, and definitely not broken. Just ice it for a few days or something - ask Vic and he'll do it for you.' 

At that exact moment, your twin brother slid into the backseat. Staring at your joined hands, his eyes narrowed as he stared up at Belch. The latter quickly withdrew his hand and defended himself with telling vigor - 'Hey, I was just trying to be helpful, okay?! Now we're even!' 

'Whatever,' Victor responded chilly, rolling his eyes skyward again. 'Just don't try to kill each other again. We've got enough infighting with Henry and Patrick, alright?' 

Right on cue, first the raven-haired boy and then the leader squeezed themselves into the back row of the car in quick succession. Carefully observing the rear mirror, you noted the satisfied smile plastered across Patrick's face and Henry's angry scowl. 

The leader of the Bowers Gang slammed the car door shut after him. 'Let's go.' He ordered. You could feel Patrick's heavy gaze digging into your back. From the mirror, you saw Victor staring alertly at him from his window seat. Henry himself sat forward in the middle, eyes unfocused and brooding, lost in his own world. Reginald was revving up the engine. Experimentally, you leaned forwards and turned the radio on. 'Another One Bites the Dust' came blaring out through the speakers. No one made any move to object. 

Then you were all speeding off into the distance, leaving the school drive behind in the dust. 

And so your first ride with the Bowers Gang had begun.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this chapter: sexual harassment, slurs, manhandling(?)
> 
> Thanks for reading! :) btw, since this is my first time writing reader inserts, any advice (about how to subtly avoid using pronouns/names etc lol) would be well appreciated! Thanks!


End file.
